


viktor nikiforov is a nightblogger

by thishasbeencary



Series: st. petersburg saga [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 09:46:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9884237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thishasbeencary/pseuds/thishasbeencary
Summary: Yuuri started a mental list of the small things Viktor did that annoyed him about a week after going to Russia, and texted Phichit every time he added something new.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up this morning and found a document I'd made last night that I'd titled 'viktor nikiforov is a nightblogger' and put a very short list of notes in. I texted my friend about it, and I couldn't stop laughing, so I made it a fic.
> 
> The block-quoted italic text is Yuuri's texts to Phichit.
> 
> I'm on tumblr on [yoyoplisetsky](https://yoyoplisetsky.tumblr.com/) (yoi side blog) or [cary-onmywaywardson](https://cary-onmywaywardson.tumblr.com/).

There were millions of amazing things about living with Viktor Nikiforov. Yuuri had literally moved in with his idol who he had not only met and been trained by, but had also fallen in love with and gotten engaged to. What kind of crazy story was that? Oh, yeah, you know. Just had posters of my future husband obsessively on my walls for years and then suddenly he showed up at my family home and we got engaged less than a year later. Nothing big. Living with Viktor, though, made Yuuri all the more aware that Viktor was very human and had very human traits that annoyed him. A lot.

Yuuri started a mental list of the small things Viktor did that annoyed him about a week after going to Russia, and texted Phichit every time he added something new.

The first became very apparent the first night they slept together (the first night, you see, Yuuri slept on the couch with Makkachin and Yurio because Viktor got home late). They were both exhausted from moving Yuuri in, and all of his stuff hadn't been sent from Japan yet. He wasn't bringing everything he owned (a box was stubbornly left under his bed, for example, that was full of posters of Viktor. And other merchandise his fiancé _really_ did not need to see that he owned because Yuuri would never live it down, and, worse yet, Viktor would probably think it was _cute_ and try to put some of it out), but it was still a hard process to move all the way to another country to move in with your significant other.

Thus, it was no surprise when the two of them went to bed that night, Yuuri pressed up against Viktor's side, still on his phone. Viktor had set his down a little bit ago, clearly asleep already, and Yuuri smiled, watching the man sleep for a while, the silence of the room beyond their soft breathing comforting.

And then it started.

It was quiet, at first, so much so that Yuuri didn't notice the first few words. Soon, though, he blinked, setting down his phone and looking up to his fiancé, who was clearly fast asleep, and sleep-talking. In Russian. Yuuri stared at him, as if expecting it to stop.

It didn't stop. And when it started the next night? Yeah, that didn't stop either.

A week he dealt with it, saying nothing, but on the eighth day, Viktor talked for fifty-seven straight minutes in Russian (he timed it, because it wasn't like he'd be able to sleep with his fiancé lightly babbling anyway), and Yuuri couldn't keep it to himself any more.

He reached over (careful not to wake Viktor, who had finally quieted down) and grabbed his phone, pulling up Phichit's number.

> _Phichit, he sleep talks._
> 
> _In Russian._
> 
> _I mean i guess Russian isn't that unexpected he is Russian._
> 
> _But he sleep-talks, nonstop._
> 
> _He talked for nearly an hour tonight._
> 
> _How the fuck am I supposed to sleep?_

The next morning, he got an amused text back from Phichit who claimed to be starting an actual list about the things that Viktor did that annoyed Yuuri. Yuuri laughed, glad that his friend knew he was (mostly) amused by the weird habits Viktor had.

A few days later, he'd adjusted to it, and didn't even recognize that Viktor was sleep talking any more. He could sleep through it, most nights, and had sort of forgotten all about Viktor's sleeping habit. Which maybe made the next night all the more annoying.

Yuuri was woken up to the sound of Viktor's voice. "Yuuri." Yuuri knew he was awake because no matter how much he slept talk, Viktor had never once said his name in his sleep (well, not like this, at least. Not as a direct indication that he was speaking to him. Yes, he'd heard his name in his fiancé's sleep rambles, but never did it sound like Viktor was aware that Yuuri was right next to him and alive.

"Yeah?" He glanced up to Viktor, who was looking at the ceiling with a great intensity, clearly having some important idea in his mind.

A glance at the clock told Yuuri it was three in the morning, so what profound thought was Viktor having at three in the morning? "Do flowers feel pain?"

"Viktor, they're plants."

"Do they feel pain?"

"Viktor, we have practice tomorrow. Go to sleep." Yuuri groaned, pressing his face back into the man's shoulder and trying to fall asleep himself. He thought the sleep talking was bad.

The next night, it happened again. "Yuuri?" He looked at him urgently, and Yuuri blinked sleepiness out of his eyes so he could give Viktor attention enough that he would say whatever he was going to say and they could just go to sleep. "Why do we have legs?"

Yuuri just stared at him, but Viktor continued, "Why don't we have wings? Birds have wings and legs."

"Viktor," Yuuri sighed, kissing him, "Go to sleep. We need to sleep if we're going to practice."

"Yuuri?" The mentioned man groaned the third night, just pressing his face into Viktor's shoulder. "Is ice skating just frozen-water swimming? Why do people do both? Do you think that the fish are upset when we swim with them in the ocean?"

"Go to sleep, Viktor." Was Yuuri's only answer, rolling over to grab his phone, pulling up Phichit's number and squinting at the screen, not caring if his friend was awake or not. He'd see it in the morning.

> _Quote from Viktor Nikiforov: Is ice skating just frozen water swimming?_
> 
> _Three nights in a row, Phichit._
> 
> _Three nights, he's woken me up to ask me something ridiculously stupid like this._
> 
> _Yesterday he asked me why we had legs._
> 
> _Legs, Phichit._
> 
> _I think he wants answers._
> 
> _Add it to the list._

He didn't get used to the questions quite as well as he got used to the sleep talking, because a few weeks later, when Viktor woke him up again ("Yuuri, do you think Makkachin wants to figure skate?"), Yuuri pushed him off of the bed and buried himself under the blankets

He didn't mention that one to Phichit.

The rest of Yuuri's stuff arrived from Japan about a week later, and they were both excited to finally have everything set up, to have Yuuri really living in Viktor's apartment. Yuuri took a few boxes to their bedroom, unpacking various clothes and other items that belonged in there, working quietly until he heard a surprised noise from Viktor, and he peeked his head out the door and –

Horror filled his face, he had somehow gotten a hold of the box that Yuuri kept securely hidden under his bed when he left Japan, with strict instructions not to send it. He'd told Mari at least five times that it was to stay there.

… Okay, maybe that was his mistake. He just stared at his fiancé looking excitedly at a pillow case with his face on it, and retreated back into the bedroom, face flaming as he reached for his phone.

> _Mari sent my posters, Phichit._
> 
> _And probably everything else._
> 
> _Viktor is going through it. I'm dying._

It wasn't list worthy, but he knew that Phichit would still enjoy the information. He probably would get some sort of satisfaction out of Yuuri's embarrassment.

It wasn't until a few days later that he found something else for the list: Viktor's decorating habits.

Every table and coffee table and bookshelf and cabinet and anything else with a relatively flat surface had _something_ on it. Yes, there were the customary picture frames, and flowers, and other things that anyone might have in their house, but there was also a shelf in their room that was just about thirty different figures, stuffed animals, and other crafts about Makkachin. And that shelf was the least of Yuuri's worries.

There were the drawings on the fridge (which, yes, was cute, if there weren't so many. Even the magnets were clearly customized for Viktor, whether based on his costumes, or Makkachin, or something else the man loved).

The tables had random figurines, some that clearly came from fans (depictions of Viktor or Makkachin or ice skating in general, and, yes, Yuuri admitted, some were very cool, including the snow globe that had a figure of Viktor with his flower crown in it, but some were just weird, like the one of Viktor and Chris that Yuuri didn't even _want_ to describe).

The couch and anywhere else you might feel like sitting were covered in stuffed animals (and Yuuri couldn't even begin to describe what all different stuffed animals he had. Yes, Makkachin was heavily prevalent, but there were _so many_ ).

It was when he opened the cabinet in the bathroom to put in his stuff and found _more_ knick-knacks that he finally texted Phichit.

> _Phichit how does one man have so many knick-knacks?_
> 
> _I swear, he must keep everything that's thrown on the ice_
> 
> _And that any fan has ever sent him_
> 
> _And he must buy them everywhere he goes_
> 
> _Literally every time I come home something new is on a table_
> 
> _Where does he store all of these things?_

Followed by, a few minutes later:

> _Oh, god, Phichit._
> 
> _He found that figure I bought._
> 
> _The one of him._
> 
> _He put it in the main room._
> 
> _Everyone we know that comes here goes in there._
> 
> _They'll see him._
> 
> _He'll tell them it's mine._

Viktor refused to take it down, claiming that he was going to find one of Yuuri (he did, and it was just as humiliating when, months later, there was a figure of both of them on their coffee table). The knick-knacks also stayed, but every week or so, Viktor would change some of them out. At least it was never cluttered, just… a lot of knick-knacks. And Yuuri still didn't know where he hid the spares. Or where they all came from.

He'd been living with Viktor for a few months, and it was great. Yes, Viktor kept sleep talking and he kept asking those dumb questions and had god knows what _everywhere_ , but he was also amazing. Yuuri was happier than he'd been in so long (ever?), and it was clear that Viktor was enjoying himself as well.

The one problem was that in the months of living with Viktor, Yuuri had cooked every night that they had a homemade meal. Viktor had claimed a few days in to be a subpar chef, and Yuuri hadn't questioned it; he liked cooking.

However, at the rink that day, Viktor and Georgi were having a friendly discussion when Yuuri picked up on Georgi asking Viktor about food. At first, Viktor just ranted about everything that Yuuri had made, and he smiled, resuming his footwork, until he heard Georgi ask a much more pressing question.

A short fight later, Yuuri texted Phichit.

> _HE KNOWS HOW TO COOK._
> 
> _FOR GOD'S SAKE YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND_
> 
> _I HAVE COOKED EVERY NIGHT HERE AND TODAY HERE I AM AT PRACTICE_
> 
> _AND GEORGI ASKS HIM IF HE'S MADE ANYTHING GOOD LATELY_
> 
> _I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT HE NEVER COOKED AND THAT WAS WHY I DID IT_
> 
> _He says he prefers my food better_
> 
> _He's apparently bored of what he can make._
> 
> _I'm buying him a cookbook._
> 
> _And if he doesn't cook tomorrow, we're not eating._

He knew the threat wasn't really a threat, because they'd order takeout or something, but Yuuri was annoyed, and the fact that Viktor wasn't home wasn't helping him.

(See, their conversation had gone sort of like this:

"You know how to cook!?"

"Yes?"

"Then why don't you?"

"I was bored of my food. I like yours."

"So I had to cook every night?"

Viktor had looked silently thoughtful and Yuuri stormed from the rink when practice was over. Viktor had to walk Yuri home, and so he wasn't surprised that he wasn't home, but it was setting Yuuri on edge. He didn't like fighting.)

Viktor got home a few hours later, and apologized to Yuuri, giving him lots of kisses and promises not to do it again. Yuuri gave into him, nodding his head, and they ate take out.

The next day, Viktor sent Yuuri out shopping with Yuri ("You should bond! It will be fun!") much to the annoyance of the younger and confusion of the older.

When he returned, Viktor had prepared a full meal and apologized again for never cooking. A few bites in, Yuuri realized that Viktor's food was amazing and demanded that they make a schedule of who cooked when. And, yes, his name was written down more often, but at least Viktor volunteered to cook sometimes.

(And he did live up to his threat to buy Viktor a new cookbook with new recipes, which the Russian man very much enjoyed and actually cooked every meal for an entire week, which was great).

Yuuri knew that Viktor didn't like to wash the dishes, and, at first, it didn't bother him all that much. It was calming to wash their two plates, their two spoons, forks, cups, whatever they had. Two of them. He could wash two every night.

The emphasis on the number was for a reason.

Because, living with Viktor, it wasn't always two. No, one week, the dishes build up so badly that there were _ten plates in the sink_. Ten. They didn't even own ten plates when Yuuri moved in.

When he brought it up to Viktor, he didn't even know how to respond, so he picked up his phone to text Phichit.

> _Buying new plates is not an acceptable substitute for just washing the plate you already own._
> 
> _Remember that._
> 
> _I thought it was common knowledge._
> 
> _But here we are, with AT LEAST ten more plates than we started._
> 
> _And the only one who ever washes the ones we have is me._
> 
> _Honestly i don't even know if Viktor knows how to wash the dishes._
> 
> _I mean I guess he has to he only had five plates when I moved in but_
> 
> _Phichit he buys new plates instead of washing them._

Phichit demanded that Yuuri send him a picture of their growing collection, and begged Yuuri to post it in Instagram (he also called because he was laughing so hard. None of the plates even matched, Viktor just picked out whichever one he thought was best).

Yuuri did post it, and Viktor liked it. He  _liked_ it.

Viktor also didn't stop buying plates (and other dishes). Yes, so, he washed he dishes _sometimes_ , but he also almost once a month just came home with a new pair of plates or forks or spoons or knives or cups or bowls or whatever it was that he didn't feel like washing.

He should have known better than to text Phichit everything, in retrospect. It was no surprise to anyone that Yuuri picked Phichit to be his best man for the wedding, and not even a week after he had, Phichit called him.

"So I was working on my speech," He started, and Yuuri gaped.

"Already!? Phichit, we're not getting married for _months_." Yuuri groaned, thinking of all of the ways his friend could embarrass him. Phichit knew far too much about Yuuri for the Japanese man's good.

"Yes, I know, but I had a lot of ideas. I'm gonna send you something, tell me if I can use it. It's a list of stuff you've texted me about Viktor."

This was Phichit's list when he got a hold of it (much better than it could have been):

> he talks in his sleep in russian
> 
> he asks dumb questions in the middle of the night when yuuri is trying to sleep
> 
> he has A LOT OF KNICK KNACKS
> 
> he pretends he can't cook
> 
> he never does the dishes

Much less worrying than the rest of the list was Phichit's note at the end: holy shit, yuuri loves him more than he did before they met.

He gave Phichit permission to use it in his speech (but made him cut out the bit about his obsession with Viktor before they even really knew each other).

On their wedding night, his best man stood to give his speech and just picked up his phone, grinning. "I'm gonna skip the sappy part and get right into the good stuff." He grinned wickedly and while Viktor perked up in excitement. "Right after Yuuri moved in with Viktor, he started texting me about their life. Now, I know, don't worry, PG-13! He spared me the details, so I couldn't tell you that if I wanted to. No, I've got something much juicier."

"From the first night they were together, Yuuri would text me everything Viktor did that drove him crazy. I mean, they're still together and getting _married_ , so it couldn't have been _that_ bad, but when he texted me, damn, I thought he was going to go insane. These are my favorites."

He barely registered Viktor at his side, half in anticipation of Phichit, and half worried for Yuuri, murmur, "Yuuri?"

"It wasn't that bad, I swear!" Yuuri turned bright red, pressing his face against the table, but before he could say anything else, Phichit resumed his speech.

"What I learned from Yuuri moving in with the love of his life is that five-time world champion figure skater Viktor Nikiforov is little more than a night blogger."

**Author's Note:**

> The original document was Phichit's list (other than the note about the dishes, that was added by suggestion of my friend).
> 
> What's that? "Cary, this is a series?" Yeah, coming soon, I'm writing similar stories in the same 'verse (I say 'verse, but this is basically canon 'verse) for Yurio and Yuuri. And maybe others, we'll see.


End file.
